Tattoo
by Formless
Summary: Individual stories of how Bill got his tattoos. AN: ALL OF THESE AR FICTION. There is no basis on these stories. Tokio Hotel


FOURTEEN YEARS OLD

"Tom! Check this out."

Bill yelled to his twin brother as he barged into their room. Tom was lying on his bed with a pillow on his face. Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. He went to his brother's bedside. "Tom! Hey... Tom! Come on, I know you're awake," Bill said, nudging his twin a little. He got impatient and pulled the pillow away and threw it to the floor, revealing Tom's frustrated face. "What do you want?" Tom said, annoyed. Bill stared into Tom's bloodshot eyes, an obvious sign that he was crying. "What's wrong?" Bill asked. He knew that face. It meant that something REALLY bad happened to Tom. "Nothing," Tom replied, rolling to his side. "Come on, Tom. Tell me," Bill pleaded, hugging his twin. Tears fell from Tom's eyes. "She broke up with me," Tom whispered. He tried to hold his tears back, but it was no use. "Aw, Tomi. It's okay, you'll find another," Bill said, stroking his brother's dreadlocks. Tom finally stopped crying and sat up, facing Bill. "So, what did you want to show me?" Tom said. "Oh, yeah," Bill said. He turned around and bowed his head a little. On the back of Bill's neck was the symbol of their band, Tokio Hotel. "Whoa," was all Tom could say. His fingers traced Bill's tattoo. "What do you think?" Bill asked, smiling. He faced Tom, eager to see his reaction. "It's cool, but why at the back of your neck?" Tom said. "Because it's the nearest to my brain, and I think of you guys all the time," Bill said, grinning. "Why not on your forehead?"Tom said. Bill gave him a dirty look and the twins laughed.

* * *

SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD

Tom took a glance at his watch. It was already 9pm. _Why isn't he back yet? _Tom thought to himself impatiently. He flopped down on his bed. He was already too tired. He was about to fall asleep when the door opened. "Finally!" Tom said. "Tomi! Look what I got!" Bill said happily. Tom looked at him with tired eyes. He was too tired to put up with Bill's ADHD today. "What?" Tom said wearily. He was tired. SO TIRED. Bill smiled and unbuttoned his jeans. Tom's eyes grew wide as he looked away. "Bill, what the actual fuck? I can't..." Tom said. Bill creased his eyebrows and slapped Tom in the head. "What the fuck do you think this is? TWINCEST? Man, you need to get laid." Bill said. Tom sighed in relief and turned his head to look at Bill. Bill was standing with his shirt partly raised, jeans undone and his black boxers shown. On his abdomen, completely exposed, was a black star inked on Bill's pale skin. "New tattoo? Why a star?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow. "Because that's what I am." Bill replied, grinning cockily. Tom smirked. "Whatever." Tom replied, rolling his eyes and burying his face into a pillow. Bill sighed as he fixed his jeans and his shirt. "Go to sleep, Bill. We have to leave this hotel by 6am," Tom said, sleepy. "Okay, alright." Bill said as he lay down beside his brother. "Goodnight, Tom." Bill whispered. "Goodnight, Billa." Tom answered.

* * *

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

Tom stood there in a small room, his leg propped against the wall and arms crossed. His eyebrow rose as he watched the scene before him. Bill was sitting down with his arm outstretched and the tattoo artist focused on Bill's arm. Bill was patient, biting his lips whenever he felt the needle dig too deep in his sensitive flesh. They both sighed in relief as the final dot was done. He proudly showed Tom his new tattoo on his left arm. "Freiheit 89?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. Bill grinned in reply. As soon as the twins reached their car, Bill pulled Tom, signalling him to stop. "What?" Tom said, surprised. Bill smiled and reached into his bag. He pulled out a small black box with a silver ribbon on it. Bill handed it to Tom. Tom took it in his rough palm and opened it gently. Inside it was a watch. Not just any watch, but Tom's _dream_ watch. "Remember when we were eight years old? You told me that you wanted this watch. You told me that you'll probably get it after ten years." Bill said. "Aw, Billa..." Tom was too choked up to speak. He pulled Bill to a tight bear hug and Bill smiled with satisfaction. "Thank you, Bill," Tom said, tears welling up in his eyes. Bill patted his twin's back.

"Happy 18th Birthday, Tomi."

* * *

NINETEEN YEARS OLD

_"Wir hören nie auf zu schreien. Wir kehren zum ursprung zuruck."_

[We never stopped screaming. We return to the origin.]

These two sentences somehow described his life. He wanted it to be with him forever. He had it inked all over his left side, covering his ribs. He hasn't shown it to the public yet, but the band knows and here they are, at the hotel's rooftop. It was a chilly night. Sighing deeply, he took another puff of his cigarette. "How will you show it?" Tom asked, breaking the silence. "I... don't know." Bill breathed in reply. "When will you show it?" Tom asked again. Bill lifted the left side of his shirt, running his fingers over the ink. He slowly pulled it down. "When it isn't swollen anymore," Bill replied and Tom stifled a laugh. Silence followed. The air felt serious. Bill closed his eyes, listening to Tom humming a familiar tune. Bill smiled and whispered, "In die nacht."


End file.
